Exile from Gondor
by Lina-Kitten
Summary: What would happen to a person who had fought Eowyn after Helm's Deep because they couldn't decide which of them should be allowed to die since neither wanted to live? Aerin is such a person. This is the the tale of her exile.


IDisclaimer: I do not have any share in the ownership of LOTR, or JRR Tolkien's characters. Aerin, however, is mine. My own. My preciousssssss. Ok?  
  
Dedicated to Alex. And to Steel_lace who I hope will forgive me for killing off her favourite character. /i  
  
Faramir was screaming with pain, his wracked body twisting against the chair that held him for the orcs' torture. And I, I was unable to go to him as I longed with all my heart to be able to do. Grinning, an orc laid a red- hot blade on Faramir's skin and he-  
  
"Aerin? Is it well with you?"  
  
Faramir's familiar face looked down at me in concern.  
  
"As well as can be expected, my Lord, considering."  
  
"Yes, you were gravely hurt when our patrol found you."  
  
I remembered that, remembered lying on the ground and then opening my eyes to see him through the haze, bending over me as he was now. I and Eowyn together.  
  
"Eowyn. my Lord, is she-?"  
  
His face grew sombre.  
  
"I had not meant to tell you until you had recovered somewhat," he said, "Aerin, the Lady Eowyn died of her wounds before we reached Minas Tirith. The comoany and I have been deeply worried for you."  
  
So that was why he was grieving. It'd've been nice to think his concern was for me, his friend. A nice dream.  
  
"Maybe my lord would not have been so worried if he'd known his care was for his love's murderer."  
  
He blanched, flinching back as if I'd struck him.  
  
"Aerin? What d'you mean? Lady Eowyn regained conciousness before the end. She said a band of orcs had set upon you and left you both for dead. Is it not so?"  
  
It would've been so easy just to let it go at that. To let him believe Eowyn's tale and take his revenge from killing orcs. He looked at me, hoping that I would laugh and tell him I was joking. But he was my commander, my friend. I couldn't lie to him. But it was one of the hardest things I'd ever done, to tell the truth.  
  
"There were no orcs, my Lord. We fought, Eowyn and I - between ourselves."  
  
He grew paler than before, though he kept his voice steady.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"It was a private quarrel my Lord".  
  
"What quarrel?"  
  
"My Lord, I had rather not-"  
  
"Aerin, I command you, as Steward of Gondor, tell me what your quarrel was. Unless you prefer me to hand you over to Eomer to question?"  
  
""My Lord, I sworer I would not - It concerned you."  
  
"Me? Valar, Aerin, you and Eowyn fought to the death over me?"  
  
"No my Lord, it wasn't that. And we fought to determine who would be condemned to life, not death."  
  
"Aerin? What mean you?"  
  
"I should have thought that was clear, my Lord. The realm needed one of us, but neither wished that honour, each for her own reasons and so we settled it thus."  
  
He looked at me and I realised he was weeping.  
  
"Aerin, I thought you were my friend, Eowyn's friend."  
  
"Always, my Lord. Eowyn has her wish now. And I am doubly forsworn, for I've broken the oath I swore with her not to tell of this and I have killed the one you loved and whose life I swore to protect. My lord, you know all there is to tell."  
  
He had drawn his sword and was pacing the room. I tumbled from the bed I had been placed on, my legs giving way as I tried to stand. I found myself lying on my face before him.  
  
"My Lord, please, kill me."  
  
Raising my head, I caught the look on his face. Hatred. Hatred for me. Though he would never have loved me, we were at least good friends. Now all that was gone, replaced by utter loathing.  
  
"Faramir? Please? Or give me a sword so I can do this for myself."  
  
Begging him, begging to be allowed to die, for release from everything. He looked down at me again, his face now twisted with a bitter, mocking smile.  
  
"Oh no, Aerin, I shan't kill you. Or have you forgotten that you saved my life once? But you swore to protect the Lady Eowyn and instead you killed her. Now you are banished from this kingdom of Gondor. All shall shun you as oath-breaker and murderer and you shall live out your days as cursed. You killed my love and you shall suffer."  
  
He turned on his heel and strode towards the door, sheathing his sword.  
  
"Your love?" I called after him bitterly, wanting to hurt him as he'd hurt me, "She was never that. And never would have been. She loved Lord Aragorn and after he rejected her, she wanted no more part in life. You too loved a dream."  
  
He paused in the doorway and spun round. For an instant I thought he had changed his mind and would stab me then and there for my words. Then he regained control of himself.  
  
"You have until the fifth hour to be out of this city, "he said coldly.  
  
Then he departed. 


End file.
